I got up around 10 a.m. — about par for me here — and Sheila was already in the shower.
I surprised her by opening the door, she was only mad for a second and then melted me with those dark brown eyes. We are sharing a bungalow here in Koh Lanta to keep costs down (at least hers anyway) and hit it off quite well. She looks more Brazilian or South American than Thai, and has become quite good company for me despite never wanting to do anything but lay around in the bungalow all day.
But her legs…wow.
— Photo Removed —
Sheila is a hissing cockroach.
A four-inch-long one in fact. I can’t bring myself to squash it, so it hangs around in the shower attached to the side of my home. I dont mind, as long as it doesn’t decide to go for a walk around the rest of my place. If she does, then I’m going to go Donkey Kong on her.
I have a love-hate relationship with the lightswitch in my bungalow as well. Every time without fail, it shocks the shite out of me when I touch it, but in return, provides me with light. Not a bad trade here on the island considering the frequency of electrical blips. It’s just one more nice reminder that I am no longer within the safe and comfortable limits of the Western world. I am floating in the middle of the Andaman Sea, shared between India and Thailand.
Figured into the price of paradise, is adapting to island life…which suites me just fine. Some people do not agree and snap within a couple of weeks, making a straight line back to the city or the mainland. The insects, sweat, and heat can take their toll.
Last night, as I ate dinner with a friend, we looked up and watched two geckos meet on the ceiling of the hut we were eating under and have sex. It was very interesting in some strange way, but it did provide dinner entertainment. That is what you do here, you don’t go to dinner and a movie, you slurp noodles and watch gecko porn. The Thais believe that it is lucky if a gecko falls on you. Now, if only the two locked together had fallen I would be a made man!
I came home from a late night several nights ago and managed to pass out in bed before I secured my mozzie net which is hanging above the bed. My two plump, juicy feet sticking out of the end were just too much to resist for the mozzies, so they worked on me Barry Manilow style — all night long.
The bites have turned into festering, infected craters so I bought some Gold Cup, the Chinese version of Tiger Balm, and have been treating them myself. I counted over 60 bites and have been scratching more than the numerous mangey dogs walking around here. People tend to slide away from me on the mats at parties as well when I start clawing at my wounds, so short of wearing oven mits on my hands all day, I have to do something! The good news is that the coarse sand here and my constant walking on the beach has managed to scratch away the perma-sandal callouses that I have developed from walking literally hundreds of kilometers this year…woohoo!
I will leave you a picture of the nightly sunset show here. It blows my mind every single night, and most people stop what they are doing and just watch it. I never miss one. It is cliche, but you never know which sunset will be the last before your lucky morning (especially if I keep drinking all this Thai Sangsom and Redbull!)
and the next night…